It’s difficult to write an even remotely lengthy review of Marian Dora’s Cannibal, as it is without a doubt one of the simplest horror films ever made, as well as one of the least surprising story-wise. The plot revolves around a Man who wishes to experience some sort of extreme pleasure that is never really explained (though we can safely assume it involves the title), and who meets another man, the Flesh, online who wants someone to eat him. The two meet up, have gay sex, and the Man proceeds to devour his meal in a rather lengthy process that involves even more gay sexual activities. That’s really it.
Alex McNetti is sick. Like, really, really, REALLY sick, like throwing up and shitting worms and maggots simultaneously sick. Lucky for Alex, he has a very caring, big-tittied wife with a mortician friend who has the perfect antidote–ground up bones. If that wasn’t enough to fuck up the various characters’ lives, a hotshot inspector is up and about investigating a few strange murders at the local cemetery, while a possibly related outbreak of the living dead has come out of nowhere.
This misleadingly titled little ditty is a shot-on-video psychological horror crime flick that looks like it was made in 1992. It’s really about as cheap as they come, with almost no video or audio quality, questionable actors, and very, very, very cheap locations. However, what it lacks in budget, it more than makes up for in a charming script, a few eccentric characters, and a surprisingly competent director. Said director is Todd Reynolds, whose only other directional effort is an apparently uber-cheap flick called Living a Zombie Dream, which I’ve added to my Netflix queue and should receive in a couple of weeks.